The thing I love most about writing is it gives me the opportunity to express myself in ways I can never say aloud. While some people may have opinions of how they interpret said writing, they don’t know what the truth is. I received a comment on my last post, one that got me thinking. There are always people on the outside looking in. Always people who have one side and think they know the truth. While I don’t blame them for not understanding, they can’t fully understand without both sides. They see what they think they know as the truth. I’m just as guilty of this as they are. We are only human.

I have been in two physically abusive relationships in the past. Both, naively, I thought were healthy. The minute a boyfriend/spouse/partner puts their hands on you in an unsafe way, GET OUT. I’m saying this to myself, as a reminder, but also to anyone reading. I think all of us forget that love isn’t supposed to hurt from time to time.

Possessiveness. Power. These are things that certain kind of men thrive on. Don’t let them shove you. Don’t let them hit you. Don’t let them defeat you.

I always want to think the best of people. I want to believe that people can change. But it is never mine, or your, responsibility to change them. Please remember this. Don’t let bruises make you weak.

I hope happiness has made them both stronger. I hope they don’t give into the anger that I’ve seen, the hot hands against me, full of rage. The fire in their eyes directed at the wrong thing, the wrong person.

“But they weren’t there beneath your stare, And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare of any bindings from the world outside that room. And they weren’t taken by the hand, And led through fields of naked land, Where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away… So I couldn’t say “no”.”

I hope they don’t make the same mistake with another girl. I really do. Because I was there beneath that stare. I know how powerful they each were. How scary. How much your heart wrenches and you want so badly to save them, to save us.

I hope you’re happy. I want you to be the person I hoped you’d become. I want you to move mountains, to change the course of history. I want you to swallow your hate and your racism and pride. I want you to breath only love and light. I want you to travel to faraway places and meet people who make you want to be better. But most of all, I want you to hold a girl in your arms, and never put a single bruise on her. I want you to burn her flesh with your kisses, not your words or your strength. I want you to look at her with a brightness in your eyes that blinds you. I want you to feel how amazing it is to fall in love and want to stay in love.

I don’t hate you. I really don’t. That’s not my style. And to be honest, honesty was the only thing I ever wanted from you. More so than love, even. You’ve inspired my writing. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

Xoxo